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Death's Advocate

8. Spell-o-Gram from Hell

8. Spell-o-Gram from Hell

Jan 04, 2026

Nothing good could possibly come from a spell-o-gram that erupted with illusory bats and black smoke that curled in wisps around Merritt’s desk. The crystal ball nearly vibrated out of its cradle with the intensity of it all. One moment, Merritt was nightdreaming of flying overseas to bathe in the delightful sunshine on a beach, then the next, a spell-o-gram from hell came through the crystal ball.

Merritt scooted his chair far back with his wand drawn, expecting the sender to come crawling out of it like a morbid horror story. Panic pulsed through his veins in rapid bursts, sending embers fluttering all around him and Bandit at his feet, growling at whatever hellspawn leaving such a wicked message.

“Bloodworth?” Merritt shouted for his boss in a shaky voice.  

Nothing in law school had prepared him for a spell-o-gram for hell.  Or what an intern was supposed to do when possible demons left messages of doom behind.  The bats weren’t real, but they appeared real enough.  None of his magic could fight illusory magic either, not even the smoke coiling around his legs like ghostly snakes.  It was enough to make Bandit crawl into his lap and hiss at the crystal ball itself.

Perhaps this was why Bloodworth lost all his previous interns. Some evil entity dragged them down into the pits of the underworld from a mere spell-o-gram left on his cursed crystal ball.  Goddesses, was that how Merritt would go? He’d always assumed some wretched bloodsucker would drain him dry.  He tried not to let his mind wander to those gruesome thoughts when Bloodworth finally rushed out of his personal office.

The vampire froze at the sight, ears flexed inward at the sight bestowed upon him.  At least, he looked rather shocked.  Merritt assumed that those types of spell-o-grams were not the norm.  What a very tiny relief in the madness of it all.

“What in the blazing hells?” Bloodworth muttered under his breath, ducking when one of the illusory bats zoomed above his head.

“Sorry, sir. They don’t teach this in law school and I’ve not yet encountered a demon via spell-o-gram.” Although Merritt would not be shocked if such a thing were feasible.  Devils always found new wicked ways to torture the living. 

Bloodworth reacted like any vampire of his status would, of course.  Merritt expected unimaginable bursts of magic to pour through the room, enough to make him nearly smother in it. Yet when his boss marched over to his desk for the crystal ball, he calmly lifted it with a whisper of magic, then hurled it to the ground, shattering it into millions of glittering shards. 

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to take care of it.” Merritt cocked his head to the side, eyeing the broken shards.  

Bloodworth looked at him like he’d just summoned a demon on his desk to perform a ritualistic dance for them. “What in the devil did you do to it?”

“Me?” Merritt asked incredulously.  “My crystal balls are not possessed like yours. That wretched thing probably ate your old interns or threatened to, and that’s why I’m here now.”

“I’ll have you know, my crystal balls are perfectly fine.” Bloodworth huffed.  

As if on cue, more smoke rose from the glass shards on the ground.  The pieces shuddered, as if trying to reattach themselves.  Poor Bandit jumped up on the desk, bristling, and Merritt gave her some head pats despite not being too reassured himself.

“That looks pretty fanging possessed to me,” Merritt hissed.

Bloodworth groaned. “Then do something about it!” 

“I’m not an expert on haunted crystal balls.” Merritt was not fond of the way dark smoke kept slithering out of that thing.  If he had to guess, it could be a cursed object and he seriously was out of his element with that type of wicked magic.  “You should get them all checked out by a professional if we survive the night.”

“It’s not haunted.” Bloodworth stood staunchly on that statement, although as he continued to watch the grotesque smoke fill his office, his tone shifted with uncertainty.  “At least, it wasn’t.”

What else could possibly go wrong?  

Merritt rose from his desk, despite Bandit’s protests as he pawed at his arm, as if begging him not to leave him alone on the desk.  Since he was still recovering from his overuse of magic from the previous night, he opted for his wand to lighten the damage.  Healing spells and weather charms did not take much from him.  He’d learned how to wield his magic without draining himself long ago, but fighting against demons and wicked spirits, siphoned energy beyond what he could control.

If Merritt had to take a guess, something else wished to possess his new boss.  Demons were not known for their hospitality and it made his stomach churn to imagine one on a feeding frenzy, draining paths of innocent victims dry in its wake.

Sinister laughter pierced Merritt’s ears as a ghostly apparition slowly materialized before them.  He did not like how familiar that voice sounded.  Whatever emerged from the shards of that crystal ball, Merritt would do his best to defeat it without fainting this time.  He could not afford to overuse his magic twice so closely together.  

Yet when the ghostly little lady’s full form developed, Merritt dropped his wand to his side with a frown.  “You can’t be serious.”

“Lucius Bloodworth.” The ghost of Elspeth Fontain’s grandmother hovered before him in the very frilly white nightgown they must’ve buried her in.  “I demand you drop the case against my granddaughter, Elspeth.  She is innocent.”

Bloodworth frowned.  “Do you know who killed her husband then?”

“I do not.  That is why I am here.  To make you find her killer before it is too late.  You are very fortunate to have found yourself that necromancer.” She smiled at Merritt, and cold shivers rolled down his shoulders.  “That demon would have devoured you, Bloodworth.”

“You sent it after me, didn’t you?” Bloodworth asked.  “In the hopes it would obey you and drop the charges against your granddaughter?  You’re a fool to believe a demon would work with you.”

“I had a hand in its summoning, I will admit that.” The ghost found Merritt’s gaze once again, slanting her darkened eyes at him.  “But I am not the one who possessed Sylvester or coined the idea to release a demon in the courthouse. I only helped them gain access to the room, and helped the vengeful spirit possess your court’s former necromancer.”

“There’s someone else who wanted Bloodworth possessed by a demon then?” Merritt asked.  

“There is.” The grandma ghost nodded.  

“Who is it?” Merritt doubted she’d offer up such information, but it was worth a try.

“Oh, he knows.” The ghost’s expression shifted into something inexplicably dark.  Even the whites of her opaque eyes dulled to a gray shade.  

Merritt turned toward his boss, as if expecting him to elaborate on that.  Instead, he merely stared at the ghost with a deepening frown like she was merely a nuisance to him.

“If I refuse?” Bloodworth asked.  “What then?  You possess me?  Or you bring your demon comrade through the crystal ball next?”

“Oh, he won’t let anything possess you.”  Again, the way that ghost’s glare lingered on him made Merritt feel like she was trying to peer into his soul.  “I’ve never encountered a protective spell so strong before.”

Merritt put on his best pokerface because he hadn’t the slightest clue what that ghost was talking about.  He wasn’t using any magic on Bloodworth.  What little energy that pulsed around him was only to protect himself, not anyone else. 

Perhaps she was detecting some kind of interference with his wards?  Surely that had to be the case.  Bloodworth was a crafty enough vampire to put in such protective protocols, enough that maybe she couldn’t even sense where the magic was coming from.  

“If you choose not to help my granddaughter, I will haunt you, Lucius Bloodworth. Until the very day they lay you to rest in your coffin for good.”

Thunder rumbled the firm’s foundation like it intended to rip it right out of the ground.  Otherworldly chills had Merritt shivering where he stood, wand clenched tightly in his hand with a banishment spell right on the tip of his tongue.  While he pitied the poor ghost, he could not risk the chance of her driving Bloodworth insane.  Vampires who lost their sanity lost control of their blood cravings.

He needed to do this while he still had the strength.  With the wave of his wand, he summoned a whirlwind of blackened embers similar to the ghost’s unearthly smoke.  But how was he supposed to send her back through the crystal ball when Bloodworth had shattered the cursed thing?  

Merritt had little time to dwell upon what to do with the ghost in his clutches.  He felt her spirit writhe against his magic, and he channeled more energy through his wand just to keep her from slipping away.  Was it possible to send her back through the shards? It was a risky move.  

Another idea came to mind as droplets of blood dribbled from his left nostril.  The room spun and his veins burned with a familiar ache, warning him he was overdoing it.  But he couldn’t stop now.  There was no telling where that ghost would go if he released her.  In such a weakened state, Merritt wasn’t even sure if he could fend off her possessing him.

“Enough.” Bloodworth’s stentorian voice echoed like a storm siren in Merritt’s ears, followed by a potent gust of energy that nearly knocked him off his feet.  “If you kill my necromancer, I’ll make damned sure your granddaughter never sees the light of the moon again.”

The ghost’s illusionary magic vanished in the blink of an eye, and Merritt relinquished his own hold on the ghost.  He reeled back, stumbling into his chair to catch his breath.  Before he could even attempt to wipe his bleeding nose, Bloodworth moved like a shadow to his chair’s side with a black handkerchief.  

Warm magic tingled his face, much like it had the night he’d done something quite similar for him.  The fabric of the handkerchief felt so soft, delicate, and far too expensive for him to wipe his bloodied nose with.  Yet he did so regardless at the ominous glare Bloodworth gave him.  

“Sorry, sir.” Merritt managed to mutter.  “Hard to banish… when crystal ball… released her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Bloodworth rested one of his large hands atop his shoulder.  “You did what you could.”

“What will you do?” Merritt murmured.

“We will investigate your granddaughter’s case, personally.” Bloodworth gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he gazed toward the lingering ghost.  “But let me make myself very clear.  If evidence shows Elspeth responsible for killing her husband, there’s nothing we can do.  Your granddaughter may very well be a cold-blooded killer.”

“She’s not,” the ghost spat.

“We shall see.  Until then, I will speak with the judge to give us more time to look into things, given the unusual circumstances.” Bloodworth’s jaw ticked, and his eyes darkened in shade.  “You are free to haunt me as you please, but if you ever bring harm to my intern again, I will personally bring every exorcist and priestess across the lands to banish you from this world.”

How in the hells could his second day on the job get even worse?

AnimeKitty
AliKatMeow

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iHateFridays
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Protective Bloodworth 😳

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Death's Advocate
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(Nocturnal Law Series) Vampire lawyer Lucius Bloodworth knows the law isn't black and white. Its hazy shades of gray and blood red. When Lucius' new client comes to him as a ghost, begging for him to save her granddaughter from a wrongful murder charge, he realizes he has no choice but help unless he wishes to be haunted for the remainder of his eternal life.

Merritt Lark is an advocate for the dead. Working as an intern under Bloodworth's wing, he finds himself in a haunting predicament when he lets a spirit get attached to his new boss. The dead have followed Merritt all his life, and even in a new workplace full of vampires, that hasn't changed. All Merritt wanted was a simple internship to help boost his career as lawyer, but what's a witch to do when the dead come begging them for help?

The case brings them very close together, perhaps even too close, as newfound feelings blossom into something much more. But neither are ready for romance or relationships. Not with all the skeletons in Bloodworth's closet and the past Merritt just simply cannot bury.

Beautiful cover created by https://tapas.io/Neizze and adorable chibi banners created by https://tapas.io/JenLeifire

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8. Spell-o-Gram from Hell

8. Spell-o-Gram from Hell

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